


Only a Heartbeat Away

by Maddy02



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Modern AU, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy02/pseuds/Maddy02
Summary: Hilda just wants her friends to be happy, and Claude is the sort of guy she’d be happy to set up withanyof her girlfriends; decent, intelligent, charming and a looker to boot. Frankly, he deserves a little romance in his life.However, Claude is convinced he already met “the one” -now he just has to find her again.Unbeknownst to them, Byleth Eisner is much closer than they could have suspected… and Claude just can't get his timing right.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril (Breakup), Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault, Marianne von Edmund/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 86
Kudos: 222





	1. Mere Minutes

Another perfect summer day in Derdriu. Claude was _nearly_ out of the apartment building's lobby door on his way to the mandatory monthly face-to-face meeting with his Grandfather when Lysithea hurtled past the concierge towards him.

"Claude! Do you have any arrhythmias or underlying heart conditions?"

"Well good morning, Lissy, thank you for your concern over my health, and no, I am in perfect condition, as I'm sure you've noticed." He winked and Lysithea scoffed.

"Don't call me Lissy! And- um, wear this for fourteen days, please." She tagged on, lobbing a plain black band at him. Claude snatched it out of the air and held it up for a moment to examine.

"And what will this do to me exactly?"

"Only track your heart rate; I need a control group for the new study and you-"

"Aren't I supposed to sign some sort of consent form or something if you're going to be taking data off me?" Claude teased, slipping it on his wrist.

"Don't you dare start quoting Hanneman verses Ethics at me!" Lysithea stomped her foot "I'll put the papers under your door this afternoon, return them whenever. A-and thank you."

"You're welcome Lissy!" Claude sing-songed as he made his way out the door, already in a better mood than he'd started the day even as his neighbour's familiar refrain "Don't call me Lissy!" floated after him.

~o~*~o~

The good mood _almost_ made it through the entire meeting with his Grandfather too; the old man's new medication seemed to really be helping, and he was still as sharp as ever. Which was possibly why he pressed for the assignment Claude had been deliberately putting off. The tip Lorenz had sent him.

And so that very night he found himself waiting for a table at The Rose. It was… exactly as pretentious as he had expected a tip from Lorenz would be, complete with the sneering maître 'd. Only Old Gloucester would think _this_ a hot date spot. Poor Lorenz had probably just taken his father at his word when he passed the hint along.

Once the maître 'd had decided he'd been given the requisite stare down, he was seated promptly. The table linens were all in order and the seats were comfy; still, there were _far_ too many knives and forks in his setting for the sort of clientele Lorenz _claimed_ they were after.

He'd only just started running over the drinks menu when a voice chimed above him; "Is this seat taken?"

"Well, well, Galatea, how nice to see you." He said, standing to greet her and gesturing to the chair across from his "It's been what, five months?"

"Something like that -the little fusion place with all the art. Maya's?"

"That was it." Claude agreed as Ingrid slid down into the chair. "I was intrigued by your Mockingbird review, I think I'll have to make a tour of Faerghus soon. Hit up the Mockingbird, the Knight's Table -maybe find something you've overlooked."

"Good luck with that." She said with something of a smirk "You can't even cover your own turf; why haven't you done that Almyran place over on Archer Street? I'd have thought that'd be right up your alley?"

"Conflict of interest." Claude answered dismissively

"I didn't figure you the type to go into ownership?" Ingrid asked as she settled and dug through her handbag.

"Oh I'm not." He clarified, setting his menu aside "But the owner's known me since before I could walk. If I review the Barbarossa and am too critical, my parents will hear about it and I'll never _stop_ hearing about it. If I'm too complimentary he'll take it as charity and I'll be banned. I can't win, so I'm not playing."

"So, you mean I can have the scoop myself, huh?"

"I suppose…" he trailed off eyeing the table between them "Ingrid. What blasphemy is this?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes "It's a notebook, Claude."

"Yes, I see that. Why is it on the table?"

"Please don't tell me _you_ are about to start lecturing _me_ on etiquette. I saw you that night at Maya's remember? I saw you battle that whole roast pheasant and lose."

"Well, now I understand why that rag is the only place you write for. Clearly no journalistic integrity. You're basically advertising yoursel-"

"Oh, stuff it Riegan. As if the staff here don't know exactly who we are."

Claude grinned, leaning forwards and lowering his voice "How much longer until they bring the champagne, you reckon?"

"Already on it's way" Ingrid answered conspiratorially.

~o~*~o~

At some point during the apéritifs a scheme was hatched.

"No, no, it's perfect!" Claude insisted "You review the Barbarossa _without the notebook,_ and I get to _eat_ at the Barbarossa without Nader staring me down as if I'm someone suspicious! Seriously, you'll just be there as my friend, not _Ingrid Galatea, Daily Pegasus_ , see what it's really like."

"I hardly think eating with the owner's friend is going to be giving me the same experience as the ordinary customer." Ingrid countered, but Claude waived a dismissive hand.

"Bah, still a lot closer than going in as a critic _openly_. Or don't you think you can hack it without your notes?"

"Watch it Riegan." She answered, eyes narrowing. Claude grinned widely.

"Chiiiiiiiiiicken-" he sang at her.

"Fine!" Ingrid exclaimed "I'll go along with this experiment of yours. When?"

"How are you set for, oh, next Wednesday?"

Ingrid shook her head "Heading back to Faerghus. Tuesday?"

"Done." Claude agreed, and over the table they shook on it.

~o~*~o~

When he got home at last, only a little the worse for wear, he almost slipped on the papers Lysithea had delivered as promised. He browsed them as he bypassed the lounge for his study with the view overlooking the line of one of Derdriu's more trafficked rivers, ignoring the sight of the river taxis all lit up and taking the last of the wine-and-diners home as the night-life really began to kick off.

He put the papers aside for the morning and opened his laptop. Instead of starting his assigned review he opened the usual search tab. The usual queries gave the usual result, which is to say; none. Idly he ran another search and, yep, there she was; Ambassador Cethleann still going strong, even as the last of the green seemed to have finally turned to silver in the tiny woman's hair.

Of course, neither of the men framed behind her in the nondescript black suits and shades were Jeralt Eisner. Hadn't been for a few years now, as far as Claude had been able to find.

Not since the Dagda incident.

It meant nothing, he told himself. Jeralt had probably transferred to desk work, was likely training a new generation of terrifying service agents. Even if he _had_ been injured in Dagda, it's not like he'd have had his family living with him out there. Not like when Cethleann was working in Almyra. He wouldn't have brought them into a situation like _that_.

Byleth Eisner was alive and well. He was sure of it.

He just had to _find_ her.

~o~*~o~

The rhythmic thudding of his trainers on path, then wooden bridge, then path again, beat through his head as he came to the end of his last lap through the park the next morning. Hilda fell in beside him for the last quarter-mile so by the time they reached the usual coffee spot she had a good glow about her, but her make-up was still perfect.

Without needing to be asked, Claude caught the phone she tossed over and snapped a quick roll of full-length pictures as Hilda posed, before handing it back over for her to work some close shots while he went to get their drinks. From the angles she was taking he figured the focus was earrings today, or maybe hair clips.

Annette was behind the counter and sent him a cheery greeting as he shivered in the air conditioning.

"Morning Claude! Two of the usual?"

"I'm going to miss you when you finish your term here and go back to Fhirdiad, sweet Annette." He agreed, sauntering over to lean on the counter next to the register.

"Oh, don't go saying things like that Claude." She smiled, sliding Hilda's order over and beginning work on his.

"It's not like your over-protective boyfriend is around to misconstrue this conversation and give me a black eye. Again." Annette just smiled. "He's standing behind me isn't he?"

"No, I'm beside you."

"Bah!" Claude exclaimed, half of Hilda's ridiculous smoothie jolting out of the cup to splash over his arm as Felix just smirked.

"Oh no!" Annette exclaimed quickly mopping the counter up with a napkin. "Let me make you another."

"No, it's fine." Claude said, looking out of the window where Hilda was doubled over laughing "She only deserves half a smoothie anyway. Do you do this to every guy who wants a decent coffee around here or is it only me?" he asked, turning back to Felix.

"Only the annoying ones."

They glared at each other for a moment.

"You know, I met Ingrid last night. She was telling me about this new relationship councillor who's doing a letters section for the Pegasus. Maybe you should consult him about this unhealthy behaviour- what was the name again? Oh right-"

"I swear, if you're about to say what I think you're about to say I'll-"

"Sylvain Gautier!" Claude announced with a snap of his fingers

"Annette, are you sure I can't kill your customers?"

"You can't kill Claude, Felix. He's a good tipper."

Felix muttered something incomprehensible under his breath as Claude stuck a couple of notes into Annette's jar.

"I wish you two would get along." Annette bemoaned, turning back to them with Claude's coffee and a new smoothie "Actually, there's an open day at the gym Felix is taking me to once my shift ends. Maybe you could come with us."

" _Sweet, naive Annette"_ Claude thought, recognising a terrible idea a mile off without even needing to glance at Felix to see what he thought of that. "Ah, but why go to the gym when I have the whole outdoors to run in?"

"The equipment" Felix answered bluntly, as if he couldn't help but argue "but, if your routine works for you then it's best not to interfere."

"Well… if you're sure." Annette agreed, actually sounding disappointed, before perking up again "Oh! But, I got the grant I applied for! Felix is looking at coming down long-term too, so we'll actually have plenty of time to hang out! Isn't it great?"

It was an act of superhuman will for Claude to not look at Felix. To paste a grin on his face and focus solely on Annette, giving no hint that he knew _exactly_ how much Felix hated the idea "Sounds great! Let us know when you're all settled yeah? And if you see Lissy today tell her I said hi."

"You know she hates it when you call her Lissy!" Annette called after him as he made his way to the door.

"That's why I do it!" He called back.

~o~*~o~

He sent Hilda an arch look for laughing at him as he handed her smoothie over, but she just smiled winsomely at him "So, you ready for the baby shower? Got a gift all ready?"

"On order, should arrive in time." Claude agreed as they ambled back along the path. "And _yes,_ I took one of your suggestions, thank you."

"Well, naturally." She answered, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. "I shudder to think what you would have settled on if I left you unsupervised."

"Puzzles were not a _terrible_ idea! Aren't you supposed to get kids started early?"

"Ah-huh. _Puzzles_ sure. Like building blocks. Not _chess._ Oh- Petra!" she called suddenly, skipping ahead to a girl stretching out against a bench "Petra, good morning! Have you met Claude?"

"Good morning, Hilda, I have not been meeting -ah, I have not met Claude. Hello."

" _Claude_ ," Hilda began in that very specific saccharine, don't-fuck-this-up, tone he'd learned to expect when she thought she was doing him a favour "Petra's come all the way over from Brigid to train for the triathlon."

"Huh, cool" Claude added, in an effort to be polite "How're you finding Derdriu?"

"The lakes are having great stillness" Petra answered with some enthusiasm "Not fighting waves makes training more -regular? I can do a great deal more with consistency. Are you- are you starting or ending?" She asked glancing between Hilda's still-fresh look and Claude's significantly more sweat-drenched and worn appearance.

"We're just wrapping up." Claude answered quickly before Hilda could contradict him, putting his hand on her back to start herding her away "But it's nice to meet you, have a good session!"

"Yes! My trainer will be here soon and I will be working hard! Have a good day!"

Hilda pouted as he led her away back towards civilisation and, most importantly, a shower, but Claude had long since learned immunity to that particular look.

" _Hilda_ " he began in that very specific flat, remove-your-nose-from-my-life, tone he'd learned was the only one she'd respond to when she thought she'd been doing him a favour.

"Oh come on!" She exclaimed immediately "She's cute! You could go running together! She's new in town, you could show her all the good places! What is the problem!?"

" _All_ women are cute, Hils. Doesn't make me any more available."

Hilda scoffed, but abandoned the argument with only one last shot; "When you die alone you can't go blaming me."

~o~*~o~

Annette fixed her hair into the loops that she'd worn when she was younger to keep it out of the way and shuffled out into the main area of the gym. Felix was waiting for her, and took her around the floor showing her how all the machines worked before they separated so he could get through his reps while she hit the treadmill, pulling up her "Happy Boppy Gym Time" play-list, made specially for the day, and losing herself in the music and people-watching as the tread rolled on beneath her. It was a quiet time in the gym, during the day so the only people present were those who made their living from the fitness industry, or those who had shift work like her and could avoid the after-work crush. Most people seemed to be here alone, but over on the arm press a blue haired woman with a stern look was spotting for a woman who had a _face tattoo_.

That was _so cool_.

Felix came by to check on her as he moved between legs and arms and she pulled out an earbud to speak with him as he leaned over to gauge her settings and how much longer her program had to run.

The blue haired woman tapped the girl she was spotting for to let her know she was moving away and came over towards the treadmills as Felix left "Is he bothering you?" She asked.

"Huh?" Annette responded, slowing the treadmill down.

"That guy." She indicated with her head. "Is he bothering you?"

"Who? Felix? Oh! No! He's my boyfriend" Annette beamed "But thank you for checking on me though! That's really kind of you."

"Alright then." The woman nodded sharply, and made her way back over to continue working with the girl with the face tattoo.

With that kind of bluntness, she'd probably get on really well with Felix, Annette thought with a giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. To make a long story short. This is Anam's fault. She said "Oh no, I do not like them as Exs" in my hearing so of course I then had to write a story where Claude and Byleth had a former relationship, but weren't together and make her love it.
> 
> Also, Runic didn't help. She's been sitting there, encouraging me to do this. I have been enabled.
> 
> What I'm saying here is; when we get to chapters 2-3, blame them not me, okay? Okay.


	2. Seven Steps

"Hey Claude, letter for ya" Cyril announced one afternoon when Claude was working the full day _in_ the office. He wasn't even doing his own work at that; today he was covering for his Grandfather at meeting after tedious meeting. The delivery boy handed his clipboard over and Claude signed for it before examining the envelope and the prominent emblem of Derdriu University on the front.

"Oh, from Lissy, huh? Not seen her in a few days, she good?" He asked.

"She's fine, and you know she hates it when you call her Lissy."

"I know." Claude answered with a grin, tearing the letter open and scanning over it quickly. "If you see her before I do, tell her I'll set up an appointment soon."

"Sure thing." Cyril agreed and nodded his farewell as he moved on to the next delivery, leaving Claude to sink back into the pattern of work -and interruption.

"Um, Mr Riegan." Ignatz began tentatively, poking his head in around the door as Cyril left.

" _Nope_." Claude answered without looking back up "Just because I'm behind the old man's desk doesn't make me your boss."

"Right, Claude, um, I'm about to head out, do you have any extra assignments for me because, well,"

Claude sighed "Because I'm technically the boss just now. I think we're good Ignatz, where are you headed out to?"

"City Hall, Millennium Park and the Trade Expo going on in the Daphnel building."

Claude nodded as he mapped out the most likely route through those in his head, and considered the events they already knew were scheduled in that day "As you're going past it anyway, get some shots of the frontage of The Rose will you? Don't worry about the interior or asking them to plate something up, just the outside will do."

"A-alright!" Ignatz agreed, making a quick note. "I should have these done and uploaded on schedule Tuesday evening. Um, are you going to the Expo? I heard a lot of good things about what's on show."

"If I get a chance. Maybe I'll see you there." Claude answered, clapping the photographer's shoulder as he passed him in the doorway on the way to his next meeting "Good work, Ignatz."

~o~*~o~

By the time Ignatz made it to the Daphnel building things were already in full swing. He found a good vantage point to get a couple of wide-lens establishing shots of the entire convention centre and the stall setup before he began wandering through the crowds to take pictures of what seemed interesting or picturesque, being careful that the stalls and merchandise were in focus and not the shoppers.

"Excuse me," a voice spoke behind him "I think you dropped this."

He turned to find a blue-haired woman holding out his lens cover. Ignatz took it, realising that the thin cord that usually bound it to the lens itself had broken; it could have fallen off anywhere.

"Thank you! I can't believe I lost this. How did you even know it was mine?" he asked, stowing it in a pocket until he could fix the cord.

"I have a knack for reuniting lost items with their owners." The woman explained with a small smile. "And you're the only person with a professional-"

"IGNATZ!" another voice bellowed from along the row, and Raphael started heading towards him through the crowd, as Ignatz lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

"-camera." The woman finished.

"Well, thank you again." He said, and she nodded and moved off back to her own explorations, as Raphael barrelled towards them.

"Who was that?" His friend asked.

"Ah, no-one, she was just returning something I dropped. What's the hurry Raphael?"

"Oh, right! Look who else I found!" His friend beamed, and took a step to the side, revealing a smirking Claude who'd been completely hidden behind him.

"Looks like I made it after all. Are you about done? Raphael wanted a second, and third, opinion on some of the cookware."

"I should have enough of _this_ section." Ignatz agreed, tapping his finger over the casing of his camera as he considered how much memory he should have left and how many more pictures he may actually _need_ to ensure he had enough clean shots to work from "Yeah, sure, lets head over."

~o~*~o~

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Claude was glad his Grandfather was back in the office. He really loved being a food critic; roaming the streets and finding the hidden treasures that popped up -and then eating them, truly _enjoying_ the bounty of the earth and the skill of the chef. He would have been satisfied freelancing and occasionally seeing his work in the Derdriu Star. Instead he was faced with the prospect of inheriting the whole Riegan publishing empire.

Not to mention the _other_ side of his family.

Being one of _the Riegans_ was practically anonymity in comparison, even in Fódlan.

Still, he worked as far from the office as he could that day, and had settled in to get some extra work done through the early evening when Hilda barged her way into his apartment, setting down a number of bags on his counter and immediately beginning to unpack them; starting with a substantial supply of wine.

"Hilda, Hilda, no, this is not a screw-top rosé household and you know that. We can do better." He insisted when he got a glance at the bottles she was pulling out. Hilda ignored him, twisted one cap off viciously and took a swig straight from the bottle. The next item out of the bag was a tub of ice-cream and Claude paused for a moment, realising that maybe he should be offering her a blanket instead of a glass.

"Caspar bounce again?"

"How many times do you have to 'find yourself'!?" Hilda demanded slamming the bottle down and pulling a second tub of ice-cream from her bags.

"Three, apparently." Claude answered, before wincing as he realised that was _absolutely not helpful,_ and pulled Hilda over to the couch. "Here, you sit, I'll get glasses and spoons and- you want a throw?"

Hilda gave a vaguely affirmative whine, nodded, and Claude darted around, putting the extra ice-cream in the freezer and making sure the wine was close to hand as she curled up into one corner of his couch. Her knees were tucked up to her chin defensively, but her expression was _glaring_.

"He didn't even ask me to go with him this time! Like- like he needs to be away from _me!_ "

Claude carefully said nothing as he draped a throw over her and handed down the first tub of ice-cream and a spoon and then set a glass down on the end table beside her, next to the wine. He eased himself onto the other side of the couch with his own spoon at the ready for his turn at the ice-cream and nudged her with one foot.

"Well, you are pretty awesome lately. Especially so, I mean. You practically have your own brand Hilda, and a pretty epic following last I checked. People ask for _you, specifically_ , to make things for them. When you guys first got together you were both free to just travel as you liked, but now…" he trailed off as he saw the angry tears building.

"What, so I can't be successful!? Even when I do _well_ I'm letting someone down!? Screw that!" she exclaimed, tearing open the ice cream and driving her spoon in like a warrior of old delivering the finishing blow to a mortal enemy.

"Of course you're not letting anyone down, Hils." Claude soothed "You've just spent the last while building something permanent for yourself and Caspar… hasn't."

"And so he can just disappear whenever he feels like it? Nuh-uh." She practically forced the ice-cream on him as she stood and paced about in front of the couch, gesticulating widely with her spoon and only pausing to pour half the bottle of wine into her glass and start in on that. "That is _not_ what we were about! Yeah we _started_ casual, but we were supporting each other! I thought we still _were_! Was I missing something? Was I not good enough? Why couldn't he _talk to me about it_ before packing a bag and _**texting**_ me that he'd be _back in a month or two!?_ "

" _What, actually!?_ _"_ Claude managed almost choking on his own sip of wine as that hit home "that is… that is not okay."

" _I know!_ I know, but did I- was I- No, I know that's ridiculous, but if I maybe slowed my projects down a bit do you think he'd-"

"Hilda."

"Well it's worth considering!" She snapped, but couldn't hold his gaze with his sympathetic eyes on her and turned back to refill her glass.

"Hilda, when is the last time you and Caspar talked about the future?" Claude asked.

"…I don't think we ever did." Hilda admitted after a pause, still looking away.

Claude allowed that to sit for a moment before continuing; "I've been reading this Gautier guy in the Pegasus lately -you know the usual agony-aunt write in type thing. He's really big on being upfront about where you're at and where you want to be going so a couple, or triad, or whatever can plan together and check they still _fit_. Yeah maybe a couple who've been together twenty years can just _look_ at each other and know they're on the same page, but everyone else should be checking in, monthly, every other month, as often as needed. I think you and Caspar really need to have that talk."

Hilda made no motion, and Claude was beginning to wonder if he'd said the wrong thing when she turned back again, eyes wide and glassy, expression _almost_ neutral.

"Sylvain? _Sylvain Gautier is being paid to give relationship advice?_ _"_

"Um, yeah? His column is actually pretty good, Gramps was complaining that we don't really have a counter-" And Hilda was laughing, a full-on desperate belly laugh "… this is one of those things I missed growing up across the border isn't it?" he concluded, and Hilda could only nod.

And then the laughter turned to tears.

~o~*~o~

Ignatz had finished touching up and submitting all the other projects he'd been working on. All that was left was the spread for the Trade Expo. Most of the shots were already in place, but he needed one more; preferably showing off the health and fitness zone, or the garden zone as none of the other pictures had featured those areas.

As he was clicking through something caught his eye and he had to stop to figure out what it was…

It was the woman who had found his lens cap for him!

The picture had caught her in three quarter profile, speaking with a trader in the active-wear section; it looked like they were discussing a pair of lace-print leggings. Her head was tilted ever so slightly to one side, one hand curled up just under her chin, the other cupping the opposite elbow. She was very photogenic.

But, while having _people_ in the shots was good, having them so clearly in-focus and recognisable just wasn't good practice for this sort of article. Or anything outside of fashion, really. This spread was supposed to be about the market and wares, promoting Derdriu and the Daphnel Building after all.

So he deleted it, and moved on.

~o~*~o~

When Hilda had cried herself asleep, Claude shuffled away to make a necessary call.

"You're kidding me!?" Ingrid exclaimed and Claude jerked the phone away from his ear.

"No, sorry, I know it's shitty of me, but, well, family emergency."

"Is everything alright?" Ingrid asked, immediately concerned.

"Yep- that is; it will be. I am sorry about this."

"No, no, it's not like I'm not used to eating alone, right? I'll manage. Take care, Riegan, I hope everything clears up soon."

"Thanks Ingrid, I'll catch you some other time. Safe travels tomorrow."

Ending the call Ingrid huffed and thought for a moment. She could admit to herself that she'd been looking forward to Claude's experiment and was loathe to give it up. And she was already _here_ just waiting to be seated. After a moment of consideration she spun on her heel to address the family of three behind her.

"Hi there, good evening, sorry to interrupt, I'm Ingrid Galatea with the Daily Pegasus. I was going to review this restaurant undercover, but, well my beard cancelled on me. Would it be an imposition to ask you to join me? The paper will be paying, of course."

"Well I'm not one to turn down a free meal." The only man in the party answered and stuck a hand out for Ingrid to take "Jeralt Eisner. This is my wife Sitri, and our daughter, Byleth."


	3. Millimeters

Claude knelt by the couch and poked Hilda's nose until she cracked a bleary eye open at him.

"Good morning sunshine," he began softly "water there for you, and some painkillers. When you feel like getting up, help yourself to whatever is in the fridge, I've got one appointment to go to, but I'll be back in an hour or so, 'kay?"

Hilda murmured something that was probably an agreement and snuggled back down under the blanket, practically burrowing herself into his couch, and Claude made his way out the door. He'd left early enough that he could take the long way through the park and the water-gardens to just enjoy being outdoors; take his time _getting_ to the meeting, and leaving the panic and emergency-Hilda-supply shopping until the way back.

When he reached the university grounds the signage was immediately excessive. Lysithea had sent him _detailed_ instructions on where to go, and then, apparently, also had signs put up every twenty feet. It was almost enough to make him want to pretend to get lost and be late on purpose.

But she did know where he lived.

Lived in the same building even.

So he made his way through the various corridors until he came to the hall Lysithea had directed him to. Curtain rails had been put up, dividing the hall into "rooms" that gave at least the semblance of privacy. There were further signs sectioning the hall off to each researcher and Claude moved over towards Lysithea's zone, just as she was backing out of one curtained room.

"-fill that out and I will be right back." She concluded, closing the curtain and turning to face him "Good timing! In here please." She immediately pulled him into the adjoining "room", adjusting the curtain and all but pushing him onto the most uncomfortable chair in existence -a staple of waiting rooms everywhere. He adjusted his seat, aware of the legs of the chair next door just under the curtain beside him and the faint scratching of pen on paper as the occupant filled in the forms he'd answered a fortnight ago.

"If I could just have the monitor back please." Lysithea asked, holding out her hand as Claude slipped the band off his wrist. "Thank you. Were there any events in the past two weeks you can think of that may have affected your heart rate abnormally?"

"Nothing comes to mind." He answered, watching as she opened her laptop and swabbed the band with a sanitising wipe before placing it on an attached -pad? Scanner? He assumed it was reading from the band as Lysithea's screen suddenly filled up with graphs. "Hey, how come there's no face or display or whatever on it?"

"Previous studies found people messed about trying to artificially manipulate their heart-rate if they could see what it was." Lysithea answered absently, eyes roving over the pattern of spikes on screen "So we had these made with no display to eliminate that. You jog, right?" she asked, but barely even waited for a response before going back to the screen "That will be these times then… Alright! I have everything I need from you, thank you for participating, I know I kind of sprung it on you at the start."

"No worries, Lissy." He winked "Happy for you to show the scientific community how amazing I am."

" _Average._ " Lysithea shot back, and Claude paused in standing up.

"Pardon?"

"Average." She repeated with a small smirk "Just one more data set in the control group because you're _average_."

" _Excuse me_?" he asked in a tone of mock-affront, Lysithea was very clearly smiling now "What part of me is "average"!?" he added, even striking a pose with one hand on hip. A stifled snort came through the curtain behind him at his dramatic tone.

"No underlying conditions, moderate exercise, twenty-something male. Utterly and completely _average_." Lysithea listed off, grinning

"Are you hearing this slander?" he addressed the person on the other side of the curtain "I did not sign up for this!"

"It's not slander if it's true." a feminine voice answered with a smile in her tone.

Claude tutted and began making his way out "Well, I shall just remove my _average_ self from this _exalted_ company then. Catch you later, Lissy." He winked.

"Don't call me Lissy!" Lysithea shouted after him, rolling her eyes as she stepped back through the other curtain once he'd rounded the corner out of sight. "Sorry about him, are you almost done with the forms?"

"It's no trouble," Byleth answered "here you go."

"You write quickly." Lysithea noted with approval. "So, atrial fibrillation? Is there a family history?"

"My Mother has the same, but worse I suppose. I guess we didn't have the same treatments and medicines when she was younger?"

"Likely not, although it is possible her case is just more severe. Is there any chance she'd be able to participate?"

Byleth shook her head "My folks flew back home this morning. I'm actually heading out to the Locket tonight and on a trip over to Garreg Mach the next week, is that going to be an issue?"

"Airport security won't even notice it." Lysithea answered, taking the band Claude had worn and giving it an extra going over with a wipe before handing it over "Even if they do, I can adjust for a two minute outage. It's no problem at all. Just don't go scuba-diving with it on. Everything else is fine."

"I think I can manage that." Byleth agreed.

~o~*~o~

When Claude arrived at home he quickly stowed away the new emergency-Hilda-supplies he'd picked up before padding through the apartment to find her. She was standing framed against the window in his office as the sky rapidly darkened with the first of the summer squalls blowing in from the sea. Her face was lit by the glow from her phone as she looked down at it, the screen suggesting a call had recently ended as he moved closer towards her. Hilda at last looked up at his approach and he paused at the downward twist to her lips.

It was not a pretty expression.

"So I… I guess I'm actually just single." She said, trying to be nonchalant. It didn't work. Not even a little. Claude opened his arms and she all but fell into him, tears renewed.

~o~*~o~

Hilda was not much up for talking so they made a fortress of the couch and indulged in ice-cream and brain-dead movies. By the time they came to dinner the squall had intensified and both had received notifications for local flash-flood warnings, prompting the usual round of complaints about the city never really clearing the canals properly.

It was almost normal, which made Hilda's lack of… _Hildaness_ the more apparent. She followed along in his wake like a duckling as he went to throw some pasta together (and heavens help him if Nader ever discovered the shortcuts Claude took in his own home cooking) and took a picture of her plate once he'd served them up -but she _didn_ _'t_ then spend five minutes adjusting, filtering and editing the picture while it cooled.

They were setting up for more films when Claude's phone rang with Balthus's ringtone. Claude ignored it, figuring if it was important he'd-

-he called back immediately.

Hilda waved him off and he meandered out of the room to answer.

"Hey Balthus, what's up?"

"Hey, buddy, listen. I gotta pal stranded out your way with this storm. Flight cancelled, airport hotel overbooked, the full works. Any chance she can crash at yours?"

"Balthus, you know any friend of yours is a friend of mine, but I've got the pink hurricane on my couch just now."

Balthus was silent on the line for a moment

"Do I need to beat someone up?" he asked, and despite himself Claude grinned

"Ah, much as I might like to see that, I don't think it would help. In any case we're seeing Marianne in a couple days, I expect she'll feel better then."

"Well if you're sure." Balthus agreed, absently "Damn, I was really counting on you there, I owe a favour and- oh, hey, if Hilda is with you she's not at her place right? Does she still keep a spare key under-"

"Oh no." Claude cut in, wandering back towards the lounge "I'm not middle-manning if you're asking _favours_ from _Hilda_. Ask her yourself." He concluded and passed the phone down to Hilda with a wink. She frowned at him, but took it anyway and Claude moved off again to sort their drinks and tidy the kitchen as she dealt with Balthus.

~o~*~o~

Once she'd finished on the phone, Hilda padded through to the kitchen to return it to Claude, and lingered watching him put their earlier dishes away. All of Claude's crockery was a plain white -easily replaceable from almost any shop, as he had a habit of breaking plates accidentally. At the rate he went through them, dining out so often was the cheaper option.

So he claimed, anyway. Hilda figured it was a ridiculous excuse to throw people off, obscuring the fact that, at heart, he was just a giant foodie.

"Do you think this is Balthus's girlfriend?" She asked, leaning her elbows on the kitchen island and cupping her face in her hands

"I think we'd have heard if "the King of Grappling"'s abs were no longer available for public viewing." Claude answered, putting one last plate away and closing the cupboard with a flourish, proud of himself for not messing up this time "I expect it's as he says, just paying back a favour. Or transferring it to you I guess."

Hilda rolled her eyes, but didn't deny it. Claude grinned and came around, nudging her shoulder with his, until she stood upright again and followed his lead back to the lounge.

"I guess I'll need to go home tomorrow… check on everything." She said at last, sinking down into the couch again.

Claude hummed "You could." He agreed. "Or, you can hide out here one more day and we'll swing by your place the day after on our way up to see Marianne and Lorenz. I think we can trust a friend of Balthus's to lock up after herself."

Hilda considered, then nodded "Alright, one more day, then… then I guess I have to pick myself up and be an adult again."

"You're doing just fine at that already, Hils." Claude replied, readying the next bottle of wine; prepared to match her drink for drink as long as she needed the company. " _I_ on the other hand will actually have to spend some time tomorrow being a working adult. If we're going to be seeing Lorenz I should probably actually finish my review of The Rose."

~o~*~o~

Across the river and down a ways, Byleth Eisner found herself deciphering some unfortunately vague instructions from Balthus and locating her hostess's hidden spare key after what could only have been two minutes, but felt like an hour in the rain. She squelched her way inside the apartment, toeing off shoes and socks in the entryway and hoping they would be dry enough to comfortably put back on in the morning, but mostly grateful she had a dry and quiet space for herself for the night.

A beading project had been left out on a coffee table, but otherwise her hostess's main room, an open-plan kitchen/lounge, was immaculate. All other beads, threads, crystals, silver wires and sundry crafting tools and materials were sorted and put away in neatly stacked cases to one side. The white walls and few house-plants providing a perfect backdrop for accessory photo-shoots, or so Balthus had told her, and Byleth believed it, choosing to use a cushion and throw already on the couch as bedding rather than venture any further into the apartment to find a spare duvet or pillow and risk interfering with the _system_ clearly in place.

If she had, she might have taken note of the many, many photographs of her friends Hilda had lining the walls of her hallway.


	4. Introduction, Interrupted

Claude made good use of the morning. When Hilda finally rolled off his couch (after at least three alarms and four alerts on her phone) and padded through to see where he was, he'd finished the review and several other little pieces that had been kicking about his work list longer than they should have.

She murmured a "Good morning," as she worked through her notifications, pausing on one or two of them "Balthus says my 'Guest' got away okay… and I have an offer for a commission."

"A good one?" Claude asked, leaning back in his chair to look at her

"An expensive one," she answered, "big time cosplayer, look at these reference shots" she added, practically shoving her phone in his face.

Claude whistled "That looks pretty intricate… you gonna take it?"

Hilda's eyes scanned over the pictures again and again; Claude could almost see the calculations running through her mind as she considered time and materials and _effort._ But at last, when she looked up again, there was some of that _spark_ back in her eyes.

"Fuck it. I will." She announced, and turned back to her phone to start pulling up lists of materials and making notes.

Claude was very careful not to let his grin escape until he was fully facing his own work again.

~o~*~o~

He didn't even have to wake her up the next morning. In a strange reversal of the usual dynamic, Hilda was practically hounding him out of the door.

But, considering they were going to see Lorenz and Marianne, it might not be that strange. The first stop was Hilda's place to check all was as it should be, pick up her gift and let her take a shower with her own supplies and use her own cleanser. This, apparently, was of paramount importance and non-negotiable.

While she did that, Claude made tea and, riding high on his success from the past few days, attempted to clean up the dishes that had been left in her sink for goodness knew how long, rinsed, but not really _cleaned_.

His competent streak did not last.

Just as Hilda emerged from the back, Claude fumbled a plate and, in his attempt to catch it, knocked over their mugs and sent a wave of tea-and-suds along her counter. Hilda jumped to, in order to save her mail and other things that had been left at the counter's edge, but not before the wave had partially washed over one sheet of paper she held up, still dripping, for scrutiny, as Claude grabbed a paper towel to mop up beneath.

"Oh! That's nice," she said "A thank-you note."

"From your guest?" Claude asked, trying to set everything back upright without further incident.

"Mmhm," Hilda confirmed, focused on the wet part of the paper "You've managed to ruin the signature though, and I guess that was mean to be a phone number… B- Blinda? Blair? Is that an "E"? No, an "F"? B-something F-something?"

"Balthus's Friend?" Claude suggested, standing back to dry his hands

"Probably." Hilda agreed, setting the note carefully aside so it would dry properly, then looked over the counter with a sigh "Shall we just pick up drinks and snacks on the way to the train?"

Claude, just finishing putting everything back in order, nodded "Probably the safest bet."

~o~*~o~

Lorenz and Marianne had chosen to make their home up in the forested, mountainous, region of Leicester -close to Marianne's family and about as far from Lorenz's as they could get without leaving the country.

When they had, Lorenz's overall demeanour had improved drastically overnight. He smiled much more freely -and simpered far less. Since Marianne had announced her pregnancy he'd been downright _pleasant_. Claude wondered if that would last beyond the birth, but he was reasonably optimistic about it.

The house was bustling with Marianne's colleagues and friends of the couple, with the expectant mother enthroned on a comfortable chaise while her husband fluttered around their guests. Marianne stood to greet them, even though Hilda tried to wave her down, but Marianne was not to be deterred, and drew first Hilda then Claude into a brief one-armed hug (as much as presents and baby bump could allow) before they were pulled into the general mingling and hubbub.

~o~*~o~

The party was a flurry of gifts and games, but the swell of it didn't last too long for comfort; people had to get home and didn't want to intrude very much on the couple. Claude was standing near a window watching the few close friends who remained drifting into smaller groups when Lorenz approached him, tea in hand.

"Chess?" his host asked, with a perfectly arched eyebrow and Claude grinned

"Hilda told you? Really, you should be flattered. I figured a child of yours would be a worthy opponent. I just neglected the fact that they wouldn't be capable of holding the pieces right from day one."

Lorenz sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling as he stood alongside Claude, facing back into the room to watch his wife. "Honestly, I don't know what to do with you, Riegan." Claude just grinned, sipping on his own tea.

"And, how was the Rose?" Lorenz queried.

"Stuffy. Formal. Pretentious." Claude listed off immediately "…Although the food was excellent."

Lorenz frowned "I thought we'd hit that semi-formal tone. First dates, and the like?"

Claude snorted "Graduations, where Mum and Dad are still footing the bill, maybe. _Anniversaries_ certainly. But no eighteen year old kid is taking a first date in there. Too much pressure. If you wanted a date spot then you need to lose the extra knives and forks. And the maître 'd."

Lorenz's eyebrows shot up in surprise "That's not what my Father told- He put in a maître 'd? -You're quite sure?"

"I'm excessively sure." Claude answered with a grin, as an excited squeal went up from the chaise where Hilda and Marianne were sitting with another girl, whom Claude vaguely recognised as having been with Lorenz's Best Man, Ferdinand, at their wedding a few years prior; was it Dorothea? She held out her hand and Claude was almost dazzled by the rock adorning her finger. There was immediately a flutter of activity around them, and Claude watched on bemused as Hilda and Marianne let off rapid-fire questions to her.

Suddenly Marianne was on her feet, moving past them and only pausing to give Lorenz a reassuring glance and quick peck on the cheek as she called back something about contacts and florists to the girls.

"I suspect we're about to be overrun with wedding talk." Lorenz commented "Would you rather take a tour of the nursery? Escape Hilda's eye?" He asked, with a teasing lilt to the last.

"You are a true friend, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester." Claude agreed "I don't _think_ Hilda's in a place for matchmaking at the moment, but I'll take the tour anyway, show me what you've done to the place."

"Oh?" Lorenz asked "Has something happened?"

"Tell you later," Claude hedged as they were joined by a beaming Ferdinand and Lorenz led them out to the rest of the house, just as Marianne swept past them back into the room.

"Here!" Marianne exclaimed, as Claude shut the door behind him, making her way back over to the chaise where Hilda and Dorothea were perched elegantly, "I really can't recommend Mrs Eisner enough, she was even able to track down real heritage Gloucester roses for us, but she only advertises locally around Garreg Mach. I couldn't have asked for better; the business is Flowers by Sitri, here's the card."

~o~*~o~

Hilda didn't fall in with him for the last quarter-mile on her usual running day, but Claude had expected that. She was flaky about showing up when it rained, looked like it might possibly rain sometime in the next century or she just hadn't woken up. Whatever magic Marianne might have worked on her, however much support was there, even _he_ wasn't optimistic enough to believe that it'd have been enough to get Hilda back into her _exercise_ routine so quickly.

So it surprised him when she was waiting for him at the coffee stop the day after that with his order already in hand, chatting comfortably with Annette while she waited for him.

She _seemed_ to be okay. She was wearing more make-up than the minimum, and she'd responded to the last five cat-memes he'd sent her with three of her own, which he took as something beginning to approach normality. In public at least.

"How's the commission going?" he asked once they'd started meandering back out of the park, choosing a safe topic to start with.

"Oh, really well." Hilda answered "I'm almost out of silver wire, but it's going to be worth it when it's done."

Claude hummed an acknowledgement and allowed the quiet to fall around them as he started on his coffee. Hilda laced her hands behind her and was swaying them side to side as she paced alongside him.

"Sooooo…" she began, and Claude braced himself as he realised he was about to be asked _a favour_ "are you busy the day after tomorrow?"

"I could be, or I could not be" he hedged, "depends what you have in mind."

"Well, a friend of mine is up for some Military Award Honours thing over at Garreg Mach, and I figured it would be nice to just... get out of town. Y'know?"

On the surface that seemed reasonable. The trouble was that Claude knew nothing made Hilda feel better than meddling with _his_ life, and as much as he'd like to just support her…

"By any chance, does this friend of yours happen to be single?"

"Who, Leonie?" Hilda asked, voice beginning to pitch upwards "Pffffft." She dismissed, waving a hand airily "Although, now that you mention it-"

Claude groaned. "My, would you look at that, it seems my schedule has suddenly filled up."

"Really, are you still doing this?" Hilda snapped, and Claude was taken aback by her tone "This whole single thing is _not fun_ , Claude. It's miserable. People _need_ people! I tried to set you up with so many awesome dates but no. Did this Ex of yours really do such a number on you? How long have we known each other, huh? I never even _met_ her! Did you ever even _try_ to move on?"

"What? Hilda- no, that's not what-"

"Or maybe she has the right idea keeping away from you!"

"...Is that what you think of me?"

Logically, Claude knew it wasn't. Logically he knew Hilda hadn't meant to make any implications against him.

That didn't stop the _hurt_ creeping inward under his skin. That didn't stop the way he could feel his face forming into that reflexive mask he'd thought he'd done away with.

He _saw_ Hilda recognise the line she'd crossed. He _saw_ her working at an explanation.

But he just _couldn_ _'t_.

"I'll see you when you're back." He told her flatly, before she could say anything more, and stormed off, throwing what was left of his coffee in the first bin he passed.

~o~*~o~

By some miracle, Leonie was off duty and able to meet Hilda at the station at the base of Garreg Mach. Despite being in her full dress uniform and Hilda being as dolled up as she could reasonably be after a three-hour ride, Leonie insisted on dragging them into the nearest fish-and-chip shop for "actual grub".

"I've been on company manners all day." Leonie insisted "I need this."

So Hilda found herself picking daintily at a small portion while her friend alternately went to town on her own meal and dispensed unrelentingly blunt life-advice.

"So you made a mistake and said something hurtful. Own it and apologise. I don't see why _this_ is a big deal? Isn't this the guy you said you'd set Marianne up with before she and Lorenz went all lovey?" she concluded after dragging the whole story out of her. From Caspar's sudden urge to travel, to the break-up, to that moment in the park when she'd lashed out at someone who didn't deserve it.

Hilda sighed "When you put it that way I guess it isn't. I just feel really lousy in the meantime."

"Well that's to be expected." Leonie answered, and finally cast a sympathetic eye over her "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Oh," Hilda replied airily, putting on a show of it " _this_ sort of party I can handle in my sleep."

~o~*~o~

General Goneril's daughter, Major Goneril's sister, was certainly capable of sitting serenely through the usual speeches and accolades. Of laughing politely at the military humour, of schmoozing alongside the other notable figures in Garreg Mach's grand reception hall after all the presentations, after seeing Leonie received her commendation.

Hilda waited patiently for her friend to receive all her well-deserved congratulations, and wished again that she had Caspar here with her; or Claude, or Marianne -Lorenz would even be a good companion at this sort of event. She needed _company_ at her side after the last acquaintance of her family had moved off for other conversations. She wasn't made for this wall-flowering business, but she didn't have the heart to throw herself into the socialising.

Eventually Leonie made her way over, and Hilda was better able to enjoy the gossip and atmosphere, especially once Leonie had pulled her into a game of telling each group a different location for where her next deployment was going to be.

"Where _are_ you being deployed to?" She queried in a quiet moment between other well-wishers.

"Classified." Leonie answered with a smug grin

"Wait- really?" Hilda asked in some surprise. "No. You're having me on."

Leonie laughed and began her reply, only to be interrupted by another woman approaching

"Leonie-"

"Oh! Hey!" Leonie cheered "Hilda, have you met-"

"-Leonie, I'm sorry," the woman interrupted, as Hilda scanned her. Her hair was a dark blue, her eyes were a match and she had dressed up in civvies much as Hilda had. Her dress was a pale pink with a pretty sweetheart line and a black lace overdress that added more length at the back in a sweeping tail that emphasised her well toned legs in a way Hilda could only approve of "Mum is really tiring now, and my flight is first thing so I'm going to take her home and get some rest. Dad is staying around though. He says the next round is on him."

"Oh. Oh, of course." Leonie answered, pulling the other woman into a hug "Thank you for coming!"

"I wouldn't have missed it." She assured, smiling "Goodnight, and congratulations again."

Leonie waved as the woman left, catching the eye of another lady, the mother, as the woman adjusted a shawl around her and offered an arm for her to lean on as they made their way out. She sighed, but turned back to Hilda happily enough a moment later.

"Come on then. Let's get a drink, and if you can guess where I'm being deployed I'll admit it. But you wont." She taunted, and Hilda felt the challenge pulling her up.

~o~*~o~

Claude had expected Hilda this time. He said they'd talk when she got back, and here she was, waiting just outside the coffee stop. She reached out to offer his usual order to him, and he took it, but made no move to take a sip or say anything, instead meeting her eyes directly.

"I'm sorry." Hilda said "I said something hurtful and uncalled for. It… really was a lot more about me than it was about you."

Claude let out a long slow breath and nodded before taking a sip "Alright," he agreed and turned so she could fall in beside him on the usual path. "About you, huh?"

"I'm not… _good_ at being alone." She confessed "I don't know how you do it."

" _Well,_ _"_ Claude began "my deep-seated trust issues certainly aren't something that ought to be taught as a coping method." He huffed "I don't know Hils, maybe you're just one of those people who always needs to have a person. You're not wrong, exactly… if it works for you. But it does get a bit much when you assume everyone is the same. I really don't need you pushing people at me when I know I'd just be comparing them to Byleth."

Hilda hummed and they walked on in silence a moment more before she spoke again; "You know, you never told me her name before? Byleth, huh? It's not a common name, but I could swear I've heard it somewhere recently…"

The world slowed to a stop around him. The birds overhead silenced, the sun faded, other joggers vanished, the wind stilled. It all shrank down until all that was left was the breath in his lungs and the hammering of his pulse. Suddenly he just _knew_.

"Where?"


	5. Holding Hands

Three hours. It was three hours of agonising anticipation before Hilda was able to tell him where she'd heard the name "Byleth" before.

He had rushed through his usual post-workout routine, only to be met with Hilda _shrugging_ at him as she went through her socials. He paced about, waiting. He opened a door only to close it again. He made tea for them and watched his go cold. He opened three different documents for work but didn't type a word. He spun himself one way then the other in his office chair. He waited. He _waited_.

"Oh, here we go." Hilda said at last, unaware of what those words did to him " _Holst_ of all people mentioned a Byleth." She hummed, reading back over the message "I don't think this could be _your_ Byleth though, the way he describes her… she sounds-"

"-Quiet and intense with a look that pierces your soul!?" Claude demanded, suddenly standing above her, fists clenched in an effort to not grab her phone to see for himself.

"Well… yeah, I guess. He's not all _poetic_ about it though." She said, and then " _Really?_ That's your type?"

Claude wasn't listening. Already he was planning the fastest way to get to the Locket. He'd be able to get permission to land at the airbase, right? If he called his Father _right now_ the royal jet could probably arrive in Derdriu in-

"Hello?" Hilda called "Earth to Claude? You need to breathe, sweetie."

Right. Oxygen, yes. Claude. Playing down the royal connections thing. Yes. Okay. Plan. When was the next train to the Locket?

Hilda huffed, clearly seeing straight through him "If we leave _now,_ we wouldn't get there before midnight. Honestly, Claude. If we get the first train out in the morning tomorrow, that'll give us almost the whole afternoon out there before the last train."

Claude blinked "We?"

"Like hell I'm missing _this._ " Hilda answered.

~o~*~o~

It turned out, a night to reorient himself wasn't a _terrible_ idea. By the time morning came he had attained an almost fatalistic sense of calm. They made it to the earliest train -Hilda grumbled about it, and immediately pulled dark shades over her eyes to go back to sleep, but she was on time.

Still, when the train finally rolled into the station he had worked himself back up into a jittery mess of nerves. The Locket was primarily used as a joint air-base between Fódlan and Almyra, with a tiny runway for civilian use included (along with thirteen dozen extra security checks). The attached town wasn't too big; but there was more than enough space in it to _not find a person_. He started having visions of turning a corner just as she'd left the street, of entering a shop a moment after she'd exited by another door. What if she was _on_ the air-base? He might never find her!

"Okay," he said looking out at the street as he and Hilda got away from the station entry "if we start on the South and work our way _up_ the mountain we'll probably get tired too soon, so we should start on the East so we have a good vantage of the town and-"

"-Or I just call Holst and set up a meeting." Hilda interrupted him and Claude turned to stare at her with wide eyes.

"Or you just call Holst and ask him to set up a meeting" he repeated, breathlessly, gripping her shoulders. "Hilda, have I ever told you how genius, how clever, how-"

She was _there_.

That was _her._ Right over Hilda's shoulder, she was _there._

_Byleth was right there._

He practically threw Hilda aside as he bounced down the street towards her.

"Byleth!"

~o~*~o~

When she caught up, Hilda was not amused. Claude was rambling at light-speed at the poor woman who was mostly just looking at him confused. Still, as Hilda came to a stop beside them, she saw the gradual dawning of recognition crossing her face.

"-Wait," she interrupted his ramble "Khalid?"

_Wait, what?_ That was his _Almyran_ name- Hilda only knew it because she'd picked up his mail a time or two. As far as she was aware he only ever went by "Claude" in Fódlan, how long-

"Yes!" Claude exclaimed, eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Goddess, Khalid, I can't believe you even recognised me, I was only, what, fifteen? When my family left Almyra? You can't have been more than twelve!"

_**WHAT!?** _

~o~*~o~

Claude was somewhat aware that Hilda had just imploded next to him. He was aware of this mostly from the _utter silence_ coming from that direction, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on the potential danger. _Byleth_ was here.

"I guess it has been a while," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head, "but you look so much like your mother it could hardly be anyone else." He said, and was about to enquire after her parents, when he noticed the side-glances and double-takes happening between the two women.

"Have we met?" his friend asked.

"I was just wondering that," Byleth answered "you do seem familiar. Hi, I'm Byleth Eisner." She introduced, offering her hand.

"Hilda Goneril," Hilda replied, and it was clear Byleth recognised the name.

"Oh! You're Holst's sister!" Her other hand came up to clasp around Hilda's "I owe you a thanks, I stayed in your apartment a week or so ago!"

_Wait what?_

"Oh, Balthus's friend!" Hilda chimed "Oh, _Leonie_ _'s friend!_ You were at Garreg Mach!"

"Yes!" Byleth agreed " _That_ _'s_ where I've seen you. Small world."

_Wait what? Leonie? But that was-_

_Balthus had called_ _**him** _ _first-_

"Well, if you _do_ want to thank me, there's no time like the present." Hilda was continuing "Why don't we get lunch?"

"Oh," Byleth glanced between them with an apologetic look "I wouldn't want to interrupt a date."

_MOTHERFU-_

Hilda laughed, high, with a hint of the maniacal about it "Oh no sweetie, _you_ aren't interrupting anything."

~o~*~o~

Claude took some comfort in the routine of evaluating the place Hilda had dragged them off to. Just a local pub with a decent selection of sandwiches and a soup of the day, but he noted the shine on the cutlery, the genuine smiles on the faces of the waitstaff, the happy beat of a practised kitchen. He could do this.

He found himself sitting opposite Byleth in the booth.

He couldn't do this.

"So, you and Claude have actually known each other a long time, huh?"

Okay, _Hilda_ could do this.

"Claude?" Byleth asked glancing back at him.

"Ah, pen-name." He explained "Easier for the Fódlan market, you know how it is."

"You're a writer?"

"Food critic, with the Derdriu Star." He answered, _almost_ wishing he'd agreed to his Grandfather's plans so he could call himself something more impressive.

"That's a coincidence… you're the second critic I've met this month." Byleth mused, with that adorable head tilt he remembered so fondly.

"How about you?" He asked, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands.

"I'm studying to be a physiotherapist," she replied "working as a personal trainer in the meantime."

"Oooooooooooh" Hilda cut in "So you're with the veteran hospital? The training program? Holst was telling me they'd opened placements here."

"Yes," Byleth agreed, "because I speak Almyran as well, they were willing to partially sponsor me, so long as I'd do my term in the Locket."

"So, you guys met at school in Almyra then?" Hilda pressed.

"Back at the palace," Byleth agreed, thanking the server who had brought their drink order over; tea of course.

"…The palace?"

Byleth looked back over at him and he widened his eyes, shaking his head as subtly as he could, very aware of Hilda's eyes darting between them. _No,_ Hilda did not know his background, and _no,_ they were not going to get into him technically being in line for the throne, even if his position _was_ sinking by the year with each new niece and nephew. It seemed that Byleth got the message as she continued;

"Of course, their Majesties were, are, very keen on education. All the embassy kids were given access to the royal tutors. It was practically a school in the palace. Some of the Family were there, ambassador's children, a few of the head servants kids too. They even invited me; I didn't have any political reason to be there, they were just nice like that. My Dad ran Ambassador Cethleann's security detail, and I think my Mum is her second- maybe third- cousin or something, so we were technically considered part of her retinue, I guess. We were welcome to stay out there with him."

Hilda was still looking between them suspiciously, but seemed to let it pass. "And this was… _twelve_ years ago?"

"When I left. I think I was five when we first moved out? I don't remember living in Fódlan before, so I must have been quite young."

"You were always there as far as I remember." Claude agreed. Byleth smiled back at him across the table.

"Oh shoot!" Hilda exclaimed after a moment "I should call Holst and let him know I'll be a _teensy_ bit late." She added, standing and glaring exaggeratedly at him when her back was turned to Byleth, "I'll be right back!" she chirruped, and made her way across to the bar.

Claude felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket even before she made it there, as the first of what he was sure would be a barrage of messages arrived.

"So, physiotherapy huh?" he asked, leaning back in across the table "It suits you. How'd you get into it?"

Byleth's smile faded a little "Ah, Dad took a wound in Dagda," Claude sat up sharply, but Byleth made a dismissive wave with her hand "it wasn't life threatening, not even career ending, but it was a lot of work to get him back on his feet, y'know, I guess that got me started." The smile found it's way back onto her face "I can't say I'm at all surprised you'd find a job that let you eat as much as you liked."

Claude shrugged, grinning "What can I say? I'm a man of simple pleasures."

She smiled, but was interrupted by a phone ringing, "Ah, that's- um, my client, I'm sorry, do you mind if-"

"Go ahead," he answered, waving her off, and she smiled slipping out of the booth and lingering over near the door. Claude took the moment to read his own messages.

Hils: 12 YEARS!?  
Hils: What the HELL Claude?  
Hils: THE PALACE????  
Hils: She wasn't even your GF was she!? This whole time this was just a childhood sweetheart1!?  
Hils: omg this was a PRETEEN CRUSH!?  
Hils: CLAUDE.  
Hils: CLAUDE.  
Hils: CLAUDE. I don't know if this is the saddest thing ever or the most romantic.  
Hils: omgyou think Sylvain gives good relationship advice.  
Hils: Claude, don't. Just don't fuck this up. We will get through this, I will help u.  
Hils: 12 years! Claude you'd better fucking marry this girl!

Me: Working on it.

He fired a message back and put his phone back in his pocket (even though the buzzing resumed at increased frequency) as Byleth slid back into her seat.

"Sorry," she said tucking her hair behind her ears "one of my clients is a tri-athlete, and has a habit of over-doing it. Where were we?"

"It's no trouble" he answered. "We were going over my deep and abiding love of feasts, I think. Though as I recall it you were right there with me. Sometimes even _ahead_ of me." He added, with a wink.

Byleth laughed, snorting into her teacup before allowing the giggles to bubble freely up, just as they had used to flow so freely between them. He'd made her laugh. Byleth was laughing. He was aware, somewhat, of Hilda lingering at the bar, of the limited time they had before their food arrived and the moment was interrupted, but what did it matter? Here he was with his friend again, laughing. Something, deep in the depths of his soul, slid back into place, and the whole world seemed to lighten around them.

"So I was," she agreed, answering in Amlyran, and this, _this_ was what _home_ was supposed to feel like, "Do you remember-" she continued,

"-Yes" Claude answered immediately; for what could she ask that he _didn_ _'t_? What memory could she conjure that he hadn't been clinging to? Did he remember their first meeting? Did he remember the time spent in class together? Did he remember _really_ becoming friends in the infirmary, where she was confined because they'd discovered her arrhythmia and he because he'd "fallen over" again? Did he remember the adventure of their escapes from under nurse's eyes? Did he remember the hours they didn't _dare_ escape from under Sitri's? Did he remember the hours they didn't _want_ to escape as they curled up on either side of Sitri as she told them stories? Did he remember watching Byleth fall into a pond the _very_ _moment_ she got the all-clear to start being active again and somehow come up having caught a fish? Did he remember the times they spent cloud-gazing, star-gazing, in his mother's gardens? Did he remember the banquets where they stole whole platters of food away to their secret balcony? Did he remember when they discovered that their balcony was not-so-secret, and his parents, Ambassador Cethleann, Nader, Jeralt and every security person they'd never met knew _exactly_ where they were? Did he remember that glorious moment she'd defended him from his brothers? Did he remember brave, beautiful, commanding Byleth squaring up to boys twice her size and snapping "Better a half- _anything_ than a whole _jerk_." -oh, he could invent far better come-backs _now,_ but _then,_ _then_ …

Did he remember his hand pressed against the glass as his friend, his first friend, his best friend, flew out of his life? Just another "political necessity"?

He remembered.

From the way her eyes softened, it seemed she did too.

She smiled, that faint touch about her lips that he remembered so well;

"I- I have to be in Derdriu next week." She said "Do you maybe want to meet up? Deliberately I mean?"

Claude's answering smile had never been truer.

~o~*~o~

"Did you experience any palpitations, were you aware of your arrhythmia, at any point during the trial period?" Lysithea asked, running her eyes over the graphs on her screen.

"No," Byleth answered "my heart was behaving."

"Then what, exactly, happened here?" Lysithea continued, tapping one point on her screen "your heart-rate is all over the place."

Byleth leaned over to look at the times the researcher was indicating.

"Oh, that's when- … I, um, met an old friend."

"…An old _friend?_ _"_ the researcher continued with particular inflection. "And what was _this_ about?" she added, pointing to a particular spike.

Byleth noted the time-stamp… and recalled the entrance to the station, lit up by the sunset. She recalled Hilda going on ahead, and strong arms pulling her into a tight hold against a broad chest, the murmur of a reluctant farewell. The sensation she was certain had been the drop of a kiss against her head.

"Ah." Lysithea concluded, reading whatever it was she needed from the blush Byleth could feel spreading over her face. "Well, thank you for your participation. This is going to be a great help!"

Byleth nodded and started awkwardly gathering up her things "You're welcome." She responded, giving Lysithea a quick smile and making her way out of the labyrinth the university had set up for this particular research project.

Outside, Khalid (Claude while they were in Fódlan, she reminded herself) was waiting for her, face tipped up to the sky, hands locked behind his head. He looked back down as she approached and beamed, tilting his head in the direction they were to go -he was taking her for what he claimed was the best seafood in all of Derdriu.

"I was in a study here not long ago, y'know." he started conversationally "My neighbour, Lissy, asked me to. Then she had the gall to say that I was average!" he pouted.

"It's not slander if it's true," Byleth answered absently as she patted her pockets down to be sure she had everything.

They froze.

"No." Claude said when their eyes met, wide with realisation "No, no, no, no, this can't- this _cannot_ _possibly_ have happened!"

Byleth watched his face morph through various expressions of disbelief and felt the laughter bubbling up in her, those giggles that only he had ever drawn from her so easily.

"Goddess!" she managed around a shaky breath "I think the universe _really_ wanted us to meet again,"

"Well," he said, stepping close and taking her hand, disbelief giving way to his own laughter "we'll just have to be sure to keep a hold of each other this time."

He was smiling, his eyes lit up from within. Byleth smiled back and shifted her grip so their fingers were intertwined.

Yes, this was how it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed putting you through it. And I _really_ enjoyed putting you through it. This one was a lot of fun to write, and I thank you for coming along for it with me. 
> 
> 💛


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